Lilium Longiflorum
by HeidiBug731
Summary: Snape survives Nagini's attack, and retires from Hogwarts to live a life of solitude . . . if Harry Potter will let him.


Severus was disoriented when he awoke, blinded by the bright lights and the shining white of his surroundings. At first, he was certain he was dead and assumed he must be drifting in and out of some sort of afterlife.

But then, he caught glimpses of the white robes and other uniforms specific to Ministry officials, and he realized he was in St. Mungos. He was in fact drifting in and out of consciousness. Somehow, he had survived the snake's attack. He was _alive_.

At one point he awoke long enough to notice the wands in the officials hands, and he realized they were there to keep guard over him. Whether they were there to protect him or to protect others _from_ him, he wasn't sure. Another time he stirred from his sleep to find the face of a kind looking witch standing over him. She helped to pour a bitter potion into his mouth before he slept again. A third time he arose to find Harry Potter speaking with the officials.

Noticing he was awake, the boy pushed himself past the guards to his bedside. "Don't worry," he said. "We'll get you out of this soon." Severus didn't know what he was talking about, and he didn't get to ask because he swiftly passed out again.

The days wore on like this. Eventually Severus was conscious for longer and longer periods, but he could gain no information. The guards refused to speak with him, and the St. Mungos staff spoke only to let him know they needed to change the bandages around his neck or to administer another blood replenishing potion while they waited for the antidote to the snake's venom to be replicated.

At one point, the guards ordered him into a wheelchair. Severus had no idea what was going on, but his caregivers were most unhappy about it, insisting he was not well enough to leave the facility. But the guards would not be put off and the St. Mungo's staff was tasked with helping him out of bed.

He was surprised when Potter and Minerva McGonagall appeared. The boy brushed passed the guards again and took control of Severus' wheelchair.

"There's a hearing," the boy whispered in his ear. "You don't have to speak. McGonagall and I will take care of everything."

Severus doubted he could speak even if he wanted to. His mind was still clouded and his body tired. Exhausted from the effort it took to get into the chair, he wanted nothing more but to go back to sleep. In fact, he dosed while Potter pushed him around.

Eventually, he opened his eyes long enough to realize he was at the Ministry. And then, before long, Potter was pushing him into a courtroom.

From what he could gather from the proceedings, the Dark Lord was no more, having been vanquished by Potter himself. The hearing was to determine Severus' alignment, whether he had been loyal to the Dark Lord these past years as he had risen to power, or if he had in fact, as Potter was arguing, been acting as double agent on Dumbledore's orders.

As evidence, Potter put forth the memories Severus had given him and the boy's own experiences where he now understood Severus had worked to protect and aid him as he had search for the horcruxes to bring about the Dark Lord's downfall. Minera also put forth what she had been told by Albus' portrait and her experiences while Severus had been Headmaster where she realized he had worked discreetly to protect the students and the original staff.

Severus doubted the Ministry officials trusted the word of a portrait or the state of handed down memories, which could always be fabricated by a skilled hand. However, he was sure the word of the Boy Who Lived must be worth all the gold in Gringotts after the Dark Lord's defeat. Thus, he had little concern over what his decided fate might be.

Not that he could think straight enough to have any concern to begin with. In fact, as he felt himself begin to dose again, he thought he heard Potter exclaiming his disgust that such an incredibly sick man had been dragged out of bed to attend trial against the recommendations of his caregivers, never mind the fact Severus was in no state at all to defend himself.

At one point, a St Mongos staff member appeared to give him another potion.

When Severus roused himself again, Minera was wheeling him outside of the courtroom. There was a long line of witches and wizards awaiting their turn as they stood against the wall, some he knew and some he didn't. He imaged the Ministry had wanted to get things over quickly.

"What-?" he managed to ask.

"Cleared," Potter said, leaning down so Severus could hear him.

Just then, he caught of sight of a man and his son waiting in line, both of them with blonde hair.

Severus grabbed Potter's arm. He had never asked the boy for anything in his life, and he didn't like the idea of doing so now. But if Potter had been willing to defend him, then perhaps . . .

"I'd planned on taking care of them," said the boy as he noticed where Severus' gaze was directed. And he stepped from Severus' side to stand with Lucius and Draco Malfoy.

Severus felt relief wash over him. Lucius had been an old friend, and he knew how his motivations during the Dark Lord's last days had only been for the sake of his family and not the Dark Lord's gain. Satisfied he and his son would be well taken care of, Severus let himself fall asleep once again as Minerva wheeled him back to his bed.

* * *

Severus wasn't sure what to do with himself after he had been released from St. Mungos. He'd had time to think about it as he had grown stronger and had regained clarity of mind, and he knew he could not go back to Hogwarts. Despite his name being cleared, he knew there must be those who still felt ill toward him for his actions. He would not be welcomed back, and he wasn't sure he wanted to be.

Still, he had left some of his things at Hogwarts, assuming they hadn't been moved. It was the end of term so he wouldn't have to worry about facing any former students, but it was the staff that worried him. He was surprised when he managed to make it all the way to the Headmaster's office without running into anyone.

He was equally surprised when he found Minerva sitting at the Headmaster's desk, though he shouldn't have been. She frequently stayed at Hogwarts over the summer, and of course she would have taken on the Headmaster position.

She looked up at him as he entered. "Severus?"

He found himself at a lost for words. He'd been hoping to avoid everyone. "I-I . . . came to collect . . . my things."

"They've been moved," she told him, "to the Defense against the Dark Arts professor's office. I left the position open for you, should you want it."

He was again surprised and grateful for her generosity. At another time, he would have gladly taken the position, but now he shook his head. "Thank you, Minerva. But I'm afraid you'll have to find someone else."

She looked taken aback. "Are you sure?" she asked.

He nodded. "Quite certain." There was no need for him to remain at Hogwarts any longer.

He turned to leave, but she stood from her chair. "Severus!"

He turned back to her, inquisitive.

Concern was etched on her face and apparent in her voice. "What do you intend to do?"

"I am not sure," he said honestly.

"You're needed here," she said slowly.

He nearly laughed. "Oh, I quite doubt that."

"Where else am I to find a capable Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?"

He wondered if she wanted him to stay so she could ensure his well-being in a world that would surely be unwelcoming to him. While he was grateful, he was no desire in staying. "Albus managed," he told her. "I'm confident in your ability to find someone."

"What about the students?"

"I'm quite sure they'd be overjoyed to have me gone, and their parents happy as well."

She walked over to him. "I would personally see to anyone who took issue to you being here," she assured him.

He had always liked her tenacity. And though he would never admit it to her or even himself, he would miss her. "Thank you, Headmistress, but no."

She studied his face as though she were searching for something. "Is there nothing I can say to convince you?"

He shook his head. "Nothing."

She was silent for a moment, then she sighed, a sadness filling her face. "I misjudged you," she said quietly. "We all did."

"You were supposed to," he told her quickly, not entirely happy with the topic change.

She placed a hand on his arm. "Before you go, let me thank you for all you've done. You sacrificed a lot for us - for all of us. And though many may not understand or be grateful now, they will in time."

Her declaration made him uncomfortable, so he simply nodded and left before she could hold him back.

* * *

Even once he was comfortably alone and at home, he didn't know what to do with himself. The fact of the matter was that he shouldn't be alive to be debating a future. He had fully expected to die at the hand of the Order by the end of the battle at Hogwarts, if not at Voldemort's hand. He simply could not go back to his old life. He had dedicated himself to defending Lily's son, but now he no longer needed protecting.

He had all the money he could want after amassing a savings from his salary at Hogwarts; it wasn't like he'd had anything to spend it on. But even now, in retirement, he still didn't know what to do with it.

As he had done as a child when things were stressing him, he went to the small thicket of trees he and Lily had spent time with each other in. Even as an adult, he had found that being around these trees relaxed him. He had come to thinking of them as "Lily's trees," and he lay down in their shade, soaking in their comforting presence.

He lay there for a full hour, if not longer. Although no brilliant ideas of what to do with his life came to him, he arose from the ground feeling more rested than he had in a very long time.

It was only when he was walking passed the playground, where Lily and her sister and even he (though separately) had played as a child, that he was finally struck with an idea. He noticed the flowering bushes, and he remembered how Lily had picked up a fallen flower and had shown it to her sister as she magicked it to open and close.

Knowing what he wanted to do, he hurried home.

* * *

It wasn't easy. There were some magical resources on the topic, but none that addressed the specific result he was trying to achieve and not with the specific materials he would be working with. The most helpful books he'd been able to find were of muggle creation, but he'd taken what he could get. He carefully scoured each book, cover to cover, magically taking notes or marking important passages. Then he cataloged each book on his shelf.

Next, he had to gather equipment. Potions materials he had in ready supply, but the planting materials and the bulbs especially were going to be difficult to gather good specimens of this time of year.

He was quite busy with all of his preparatory work that he didn't even stop to think when there was knock on the door. He was most displeased to find Harry Potter standing on his doorstep.

"May come in?" he asked.

_You most certainly may not_, Severus thought, but he said, "What do you want?"

Potter shifted his weight from foot to the other. "Well, I, er, wanted to offer you a job."

"Not interested," said Severus.

He went to close the door but Potter put out his hand. "Wait! Please!"

Severus held the door open again and sighed. He really wasn't interested in anything the boy had to say, but if it would get Potter off his doorstep, he'd listen. "Talk."

Potter looked a little disappointed to not be allowed inside. Severus didn't know what the boy had expected. Now that Potter knew all of his secrets, had he thought the two of them would become friends?

"It's a ministry job," said the boy, "training Aurors."

Severus found this amusing. "And they want to offer me this job, do they?"

"Well, no," said Potter. "But I could convince them-"

Severus leaned against the doorframe, growing very tired of this conversation. "I suppose you've heard from Minerva that I turned down the teaching position?"

"Yes," said Potter. "But I-"

"Thought I might want something more exciting?" Severus supplied.

"To be honest, I didn't know-"

"Let me explain it to you, Potter," said Severus. "I don't wish for anything except to be left alone. I don't desire to be thought of as a hero by you or anyone else. And if you are looking to do me any favors, then the best you can do is get off my doorstep and never come back."

And with that Severus slammed the door closed.

* * *

He cast a few muggle repelling charms on the area before beginning. He didn't have anywhere near as many bulbs as he would have liked and he didn't feel any of them were prepped enough to yield the proper results, but he was running out of time. He would have to get these into the ground if he hoped to make any progress toward the next batch.

The work was slow and laborious, but he was determined not to use magic. The bulbs required special care, and he dare not risk any damage the haste from magical means might cause. So, he dug into the earth using a spade and his hands, and he took some joy in the work. It just wouldn't mean the same if the task didn't take some effort.

When he was finished nearly a few hours later, he cast a few spells on the ground to keep the bulbs well insolated and protected. He wiped all evidence that any holes had ever been dug, the lawn appearing as green and as whole as ever. Then he removed the muggle repelling charm and headed home. He had kept a few bulbs to continue experimenting with, but all he really had left to do now was wait.

* * *

It was Novemeber the first, and Harry Potter found himself back at Spinner's End.

He taken Snape's wishes seriously and had so far done well in leaving the man alone. But now, after the anniversary of his parents' deaths, he returned. He simply couldn't shake the feeling that he should be here.

And so it was, as he was walking down the road toward Spinner's end, that his eyes caught a flash of white. He veered off course to investigate and found himself standing beneath a thicket of trees in a small field of white lilies, row after row of them.

In an instant, Harry knew who the flowers were for and who exactly had planted them. For a moment, he stood in awe. Then he dropped to one knee and sat in silent reverence for his mother.

* * *

Severus heard the knock at the door, and this time he wasn't surprised when he opened it.

"You've been busy," said Potter.

Severus knew he'd found the patch of lilies in front of the thicket of trees. "I'm not interested in swapping stories about your mother, Potter."

"No," said the boy, much more confident than his last visit. "I didn't think you would be."

"Then what do you want this time?"

"I just can't help thinking," said Potter, "that my mother wouldn't want you to do this to yourself. She'd want you to be happy, to have friends, to be active. She wouldn't want you to be alone, to be obsessing over her."

Severus felt his body twitch reflexively. Had he had his wand on him, he might have grabbed it. The body had no right evaluating his life.

"I lived the life I had wanted," Severus told him coldly. He had no need to explain himself, the boy was not entitled to an answer, but he was angry and annoyed, and he wanted Potter to go away. "It's what turned your mother from me, what led me to the Death Eaters, why I have always harassed any person I didn't particularly care for. You had no respect for that man, as I recall."

Potter looked taken aback.

Severus continued. "In fact, the only thing that caught your attention was my devotion to your mother. That is what caused you to defend me, was it not? Why you are championing for me now? So your insistence that I give up this life of solitude and devotion seems a little counter intuitive, does it not?"

Potter hesitated.

Severus pressed on. He spread his arms wide. "This is the life I have chosen, Potter. And the _only_ reason I need you to validate it is so you will stop appearing on my bloody door step. So I ask you, Chosen One," Severus stepped backward into the house, leaving the door open. He knocked on a bookcase to his left and a hidden door opened. "Is this good enough for you?"

He stood and waited as the boy stepped into the house and descended the staircase down into the hidden room. A potions table sat against the far wall where Severus mixed various substances to strengthen the bulbs; to the left sat an examination table where he considered the bulbs' various properties and how best to breed them or subject them to magic; to the right was another bookshelf with all the various volumes he had collected; and by the bookshelf sat the storage area where boxes upon shelved boxes contained various bulbs and labels. All of it was very carefully temperature controlled to promote the life and preservation of the plants.

"Well, Potter?" asked Severus when he hadn't said anything.

"It's enough," the boy breathed, and Severus could hear the emotion in his voice.

Potter turned and headed directly as Severus had hoped - right out the front door.

Severus gladly closed the door behind him.

* * *

Severus turned the first bulb he had dug up over and over in his hands. It was beginning to blacken, showing obvious signs of decay. He had known subjecting the bulbs to such strong quantities of magic - forcing them to grow out of season; willing them to survive in the cold, unyielding climate; treating them to withstand potential trampling or other mistreatment - would place a large amount of stress on the plant. Such extreme magical properties in a non-magical plant always produced undesired results.

He had chosen the Easter Lily for its resilient properties - receptive to forced blooming and generally healthier than other breeds. It was also white, and he liked the symbolism of sympathy or honor for the dead. But the flower was not winter hardy, and despite his efforts, the plant had not lasted as long as he had hoped.

He wasn't entirely disappointed. He had wanted the plants to last longer - up to a full month. These had barely lasted a week, but it was only the first try, and he was no stranger to the trials of experimentation. He would get the plant where he wanted it eventually. It would take time and practice, and he was in no shortage of either.

He worked his remaining years in solitude, Potter having kept his promise to stay away.

But every year on the anniversary of the battle of Hogwarts, he received a package from an unmarked sender: a box of exceptional Easter Lily bulbs.


End file.
